


Another Boy's Tale

by MCX (AcesOfSpade)



Series: M(arvel) C(inematic) X(-Men): Phase One [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 12:05:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12276129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcesOfSpade/pseuds/MCX
Summary: The last thing Charles remembered before he blacked out was the smell of gunpowder and expensive cologne.





	Another Boy's Tale

**Author's Note:**

> So here's the next part of my MCX series, if people even read the first one. The last one was focused on Erik, so this one will be Charles.

Nothing in his life could’ve prepared him for this moment. Not the hours upon hours of studying and dedication he put into the journey, not the countless social invitations he turned down to do said studying. Nothing. Nothing could’ve prepared him for just how absolutely inspired and content he felt as soon as he’d returned to his mother.

 

“Oh Charles,” his mother smiled softly. “I’m proud of you, my darling. Your father would be so proud of you,” she added, kissing her son’s forehead. Sure, he was sixteen and a university graduate, but he was still her son.

 

“Thank you, Mother,” Charles smiled, not bothered by her affection. In fact, he treasured it. It had become a rare occurance to receive any kind of affection from his mother since she remarried. Her new husband was controlling, to put it mildly, and he had some sort of issue with Charles that no one could explain. “I can’t believe I made it,” he muttered in awe.

 

“You earned it,” his mother assured him. “You are one of the brightest minds I have ever encountered. Your professors consistantly told me the same. You’re a special boy, Charles Xavier. It’s only a matter of time before everyone else realizes too.”

 

Charles blushed a rosy pink at her words, blue eyes shifting to look down at the ground. Despite all of his achievements, Charles didn’t know how to handle praise. He’d received so much of it in his lifetime, and yet each and every time he reacted the same, as if it were the first time.

 

A set of footsteps approached Charles and his mother, belonging to Charles’ older step-brother. As usual, he wore a disinterested scowl on his face, just like his father. He hadn’t even bothered to wear something presentable to the ceremony, wearing his usual muddy trousers and wrinkled shirt. Charles never did understand why he insisted on dressing like that. Their family could afford nice clothing, and yet his step-brother chose to dress like a ruffian out in the streets.

 

“Aw, little Chuckie’s all grown up,” his step-brother sneered, rolling his eyes.

 

“Cain, what have we told you about your attitude?” Charles’ mother said warningly, turning from her own son to her step-son. “It would do you well to show your brother at least some semblence of respect today. You don’t need to congratulate him, as I know you won’t, but at least be polite.”

 

Cain rolled his eyes again. “What has he done to deserve respect? He probably cheated his way through school. No kid that young is capable of understanding this shit, let alone breeze through it like it’s nothing. All he’s done is earned a little fancy piece of paper for knowing a lot of stuff. I’ll show him respect when he earns it.”

 

Charles felt the tips of his ears heat as he listened to Cain. Cain had hated Charles from the day they met, even before their parents were married. Cain’s father was Charles’ father’s research partner and closest friend, so Cain and his father were over at the Xavier home frequently. His mistreatment only seemed to get worse from the moment their parents announced their engagement. Charles wished he could understand why Cain detested him so passionately, but getting that answer had so far taken up fifteen years of his life with no probable answer. He’d given up hope a long time ago, but here was Cain, being an asshole once again.

 

Charles’ mother made a noise that was a cross between an annoyed huff and an offended scoff. “Cain Wesley Marko,” she snapped, blue eyes narrowed. “You will watch your tongue while in public. I can’t control you, least of all in the house, but I can censor you at every chance I can. You are surrounded by scholars and politicians. If you won’t behave in front of them, you will be left at home the next time we attend a gathering.”

 

“Good,” Cain shrugged. “I don’t much care for being surrounded by nerds with sticks up their asses.”

 

Charles’ mother adopted a look of disgust. “Go find your father,” she said evenly, which made Cain stalk off with a smirk.

 

“Mother, I don’t understand why you continuously try to reprimand him,” Charles said quietly. “He’s 19 and stubborn. He’ll never learn if he hasn’t by now.”

 

“I know that, darling,” his mother sighed, cupping one of Charles’ cheeks in her hand. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll put up with or allow it.”

 

Charles just nodded, a small smile on his face. Despite Cain’s mistreatment of him, Charles’ mother was always there for him. She supported him through his studies, even helping him aquire certain research materials, and had one of the spare rooms in the basement converted into a lab for him to work in. His mother was just so proud of her little boy, who reminded her painfully of his father sometimes.

 

“Why don’t we go find Raven then?” his mother suggested. “I’m sure she’s off causing mayhem again.”

 

“I think I saw her with Alex,” Charles commented, glancing around the area for his younger sister. “There she is,” he nodded, gesturing towards the blonde pre-teen girl all but clinging to a much taller teenage boy. “Alex looks like he needs rescuing,” he joked, making his way over.

 

However, as Charles moved through the crowd, he found himself being pulled in another direction, as if by some otherworldly force. He tried to fight against it, but the force was much to strong for him to counter it. He eventually just let the force take him, wanting to know where it was coming from. His scientific curiosity outweighed his initial fear.

 

The source seemed to be a boy no older than himself, with untamed copper-blonde hair and a blank look in his green-grey eyes. His face wore no expression beyond a slight scowl, his hand stretched in front of himself with splayed fingers, as if reaching for something. His clothing consisted of what looked to be black armour, though not the armour the soldiers had worn against the Nazis. It seemed more functional, somehow, as if its designer had pinpointed the mistakes in the previous armours and corrected them.

 

Soon, Charles felt the force drop him, causing him to stumble forward slightly. The back of his mind told him to run, but the rest of it was screaming ‘learn’.

 

“Hello,” Charles said carefully, hoping he didn’t look threatening. “Was that you that pulled me over?” he asked, to which the other boy nodded. “That’s spectacular. How’d you do that?”

 

The boy quirked an eyebrow at Charles, as if trying to figure him out. “I was not ordered to make small talk,” he said blankly.

 

“Ordered?” Charles frowned. “Someone sent you? What for?”

 

“A boy named Charles Xavier,” the boy said, showing Charles a picture he was given as reference. “You appear to match this photograph.”

 

“Well yes, that would be me,” Charles nodded slowly, still frowning. “But what would anyone want with me?”

 

“The brightest young mind in the world will make a valuable asset,” the boy responded, as if parroting a line he’d been forced to reherse over and over until he never forgot it.

 

“Asset?” Charles blinked, swallowing thickly. What was going to happen to him? “I am by no means an asset to anyone,” he tried to deny.

 

The boy didn’t say anything, just reaching out his hand again, holding Charles in place somehow. “You will come peacefully,” he ordered.

 

“And what if I don’t?” Charles snapped, trying to get out of whatever grip was holding him.

 

“React. I dare you,” the boy said, a menacing smirk on his face. His eyes drifted over Charles’ shoulder, falling upon someone just beyond the crowd of people. Charles’ eyes widened when he realized where the boy was looking, and despite knowing exactly what was going to happen if he did, he tried swinging a kick at the boy. Something caught his foot mid-swing, leaving it suspended in the air.

 

“I warned you,” the boy said darkly, bringing his other arm in front of him. He held up his index and middle fingers, making a flicking motion with his wrist. Even from where he was, Charles could hear his mother’s cries for help.

 

That made Charles struggle more, tears welling in his bright blue eyes. “Why?” he croaked out. “Am I that important that taking the life of my mother means nothing?”

 

“I am doing as instructed,” the boy stated, lowering the hand not in front of Charles to press something on his belt. As if summoned by the press, a rope ladder descended from above. The boy began climbing with one hand, using his other hand to levitate Charles along with him.

 

The last thing Charles remembered before he blacked out was the smell of gunpowder and expensive cologne.


End file.
